The Coldest Winter
by love4funny
Summary: The right decision was clearly laid out for her, forgetting about him, being strong, brave, and moving on. But she'd always known she'd end up having to make the wrong one.
1. The Only Option

He'd made me breakfast before he'd left, something I knew I'd never be able to understand, no matter how hard I tried to, regardless of how long I sat and pondered over it.

That had always been one of my favorite things about him, how thoughtful he was, how sweet. God, even his reason for leaving had been for me, all based on his idea of how he wasn't good enough for me, how I'd be so much better off without him. If only he'd known.

It had been a month now. A proper month since he'd left, without a trace, without even so much as a real goodbye. Only a note. That's all he'd been able to spare me, two minutes to write four sentences.

I closed my eyes, leaning my head back against the side of the bed, a futile attempt at knocking back tears I knew were never going to come, would never even get the chance to.

I would love to cry, really I would, if anything for the mere satisfaction of knowing that I still could, the sense of meaning I had come to associate with actually having a ready supply of tears to give, with not having already used up every last one.

As if crying was still an option. As if there was even such a thing as having options anymore.

I heard myself let out a laugh, small and bitter. No. There were no options left, not now.

This was all that was left, only this. Only the pills in my hand, staring back up at me, taunting me with every minute that passed, my constant reminder of what I had to do.

No. I couldn't turn back, not now. It was too late, I'd already gone too far.

All that was left was actually doing it, actually taking that first pill, putting it at the back of my throat, and swallowing it. It would all be easy after that. So easy.

That's exactly what I told myself, again and again, as the pills went down one by one, just as easy as I'd said they would.


	2. Just One Moment

She'd always looked so pretty when she was asleep, you could always count on it. As long as the world spun, as long as there was a sun in the sky, Abby Maitland looked pretty while she slept.

Now was no exception, her hair still tucked behind her ear from where I'd been brushing it back countless times, her lips still frozen exactly as they'd been before, curved up into the slightest of smiles, never changing.

If only she could wake up.

I'd been here a week now, just waiting on that very thing, day after day, just waiting for her to wake up. Just that one thing. That was all I needed.

I didn't mind not sleeping. I would die for her, go to hell and back, just for her, at only a moment's notice, without even so much as a second thought. No. Staying awake for her was nothing.

The only thing I couldn't do was keep looking back at her. She was always exactly the same as she'd been when I left her before, eyes still closed, lips still set in that faint smile, her every breath, every single one I watched her take, reminding me of only one thing, again and again.

With every day that went by, I was only that much closer to losing her. Just one moment was all it would take. In just one moment, I could never see that smile again, the one I'd never been able to keep from grinning back at, could never again hear that laugh I'd always loved so much. Just one moment.

The only thing worse was knowing that it was all my fault, that there was no one to blame but me. "Oh, God." She was falling, so much faster than anyone could handle, a foot with every few minutes that passed, and I was the one who had given her that very first push.

And all I could do was watch her fall. There was no catching her, no scooping her up and taking her away. No. I couldn't make it better with the wave of a wand, couldn't wish upon a star and have her back.

There were some things you just had to break down and admit, and I knew this was one of them. I had broken the one thing I cared about most.

It's funny how the moment it becomes too late is the moment when you realize just how much all of those little things would have really meant, had you only took the time to say them. All those things that had seemed so irrelevant at the time would've made a world's difference, could've changed everything. And if I could go back, I know I'd tell her every last thought.

Except I couldn't go back. It wasn't like I could rewind and be there again for all my favorite parts, those nights when Abby would fall asleep on my chest and I'd whisper in her ear that I loved her, or those mornings when I'd wake up and have an hour's worth of kisses waiting for me. There was no reliving those few months when I had everything I could ever need, everything I had ever wanted. Those few months before I gave it all away.

I knew I would never be able to forget that morning, no matter how hard I tried to, no matter how badly I wanted to just erase it all. Even the tiniest of details would stay with me forever, until the day I died. Everything was so clear, like I was there right now, making her breakfast, sitting down and trying to think of something to put in my note to her.

And then came the goodbye, that one soft kiss on her forehead as that one tear was just starting to fall.

Leaving her had never been something I wanted, but that didn't matter to me, that had never even entered into it. I'd only been thinking of Abby, how she deserved so much more than I could ever do for her. I thought her life was going to be so much better without me in it. If only I'd known.

"I'm sorry," I said softly, the words ultimately coming out as nothing more than a jagged whisper, a failed attempt at an apology that never would've mattered anyway. "I'm so sorry, Abby."

There was no amount of words I could say, no number of things I could do to prove just how much I meant it. And even if I could prove it to everyone else, the one person who needed to hear it the most would still never get the chance to.

She was never going to hear all those things that I wanted so badly to say to her. She would never know the extent to which I just wanted to take it all back, or how much I would be willing to give if only I could have things back the way they had been.

I reached out to take her hand, stroking the top of it with my thumb as if it would actually make some sort of a difference, as if she actually had some way of knowing.

"God, I love you," I whispered, bringing both of our hands up to my forehead. I made no attempt at wiping away my tears, stopped putting any effort towards keeping myself together.

"And I miss you, Abby." I closed my eyes, pressing my lips against the back of her hand. "I miss you so much."

Little did I know that those five words would be the last ones I said to her before she woke up.


	3. The Way They Were

It never ceases to amaze me that something as simple as looking into a person's eyes can tell you everything that they're feeling, every single emotion that's running through them.

Never will I be able to forget those first few things that passed over Abby's eyes, that slow sense of recognition, that flash in her eyes as she realized exactly who I was. I'll always remember that one moment where all the desperation, all the pain I'd put her through, finally made its way to the surface, for the first time really made itself known to me. Before it turned so quickly to anger.

There was a moment where neither of us said a word, where neither of us even moved. The room remained in absolute silence, complete and total stillness, for what seemed like forever.

I watched as her eyes darted quickly over my face and away, as if she didn't want to be caught looking at me, like there was nothing worse than having to hold my gaze. Finally she took a deep breath, bringing her eyes back up to meet mine before she said the one thing that had been on her mind since the moment she woke up. "I don't want you here."

I looked quickly away from her, swallowing hard before I was actually able to answer. "I can-um-I can leave…if you want," I offered quietly, weakly, as if just having heard her say that one thing had drained all the remaining life out of me, taken away the miniscule amount of energy I had left.

"No, Connor." She moved her hand to my knee to keep me from going, pulling me back down to where I'd been sitting before. "I don't want you here," she repeated softly, making sure our eyes met before she continued. "But I need you."

I could see now just how torn up she really was, just how much damage had really been done to her after I left. She hated me right now, anyone could plainly see that, but, even still, she didn't by any means want to have to lose me again.

"Alright," I answered her quietly, taking her hand tentatively in mine, almost expecting her to react the wrong way, so scared that it was only going to make things worse. "I'm here." I gave her hand a slight squeeze after I realized she wasn't going to pull it away, as if to reassure her of what I was saying, doing my absolute best to try and comfort her.

She studied me for a long moment, going over every inch of my face like she had a certain thing she was looking for, as if she thought all of her questions could be answered just by looking at me long enough. "Why did you come back?" she asked finally, keeping her eyes on mine, letting me know that this was the one thing she'd been wanting to ask me all along.

A small smile made its way onto my face as I realized the simplicity of her question, as I remembered the sheer number of times I'd asked myself that very same thing, the time I'd spent going over the answer again and again until I managed to get it just right.

There were so many things I could say that she'd only take the wrong way, that were only going to make matters worse. No. I knew there was only one thing I could say to that question. "Because I never should've left."

I took a deep breath, as if to prepare myself for the next thing I was going to have to say. "And you have no idea how sorry I am for-"

She shook a head, raising a finger to my lips to silence me, to keep me from going on any further. "This is me accepting your apology," she told me, bringing her voice down to almost a whisper, nodding as if to prove to me that she meant every word.

"It was a bit of a rash decision on my part anyway," she added quietly, looking suddenly away from me, choosing instead to focus on our hands, still resting together in my lap from just a moment earlier.

"God, I…I could have died." Her words were barely audible, her eyes wide with fear as if she'd just now realized the truth behind what she was saying. "Connor, I could've died."

I couldn't take hearing the pain in her voice as she spoke, her voice cracking as the last word came out, couldn't bear to see the tears in her eyes as she looked back up at me, the first one falling just as she started to shake her head, so ready to try and convince me that she was fine.

"Abby," I said her name weakly as I moved to sit next to her on the bed, putting my arms around her as she collapsed into my chest, her tears already starting to soak through the thin fabric of my shirt.

"Come on, please don't cry," I said gently, pressing my lips softly against the top of her forehead, holding her against me, cradling her as if she were no more than a small child. "You know I always hated to see you cry."

There was no way to measure just how much I wanted to be able to make everything okay, or how badly I wanted to be able to calm her just by telling her it would all be alright soon.

I hated having to see her like this, would do anything if only I could see one smile, would willingly take never being able to laugh again if I could hear her laugh only once.

Suddenly she lifted her head to look at me, offering me an apologetic smile as I reached up to wipe away all of the tears that were still on her cheeks. "Connor?"

"Yeah?" I gave her a slight nod to make sure she knew I was listening, running my fingers absentmindedly through her hair, smoothing back all of the pieces that had gone astray, another attempt at soothing her and, even more likely, myself.

She gazed intently up at me, waiting until she had my full attention before she finally spoke. "You can't…You can't leave me again," she said softly, her voice barely more than a whisper, her hands gripping the collar of my shirt, holding me close to her, as if her life depended only upon this one thing, as if the only thing she wanted to make sure of was that I stayed with her. "Please, Connor."

"I won't," I leaned closer to her to whisper in her ear, nodding as if to prove to her that every bit of what I was saying was true. "I'm not going anywhere."

She shook her head, weakly, as if it was the only thing she could find the strength to do. "That's not good enough," she told me quietly, bringing her hand up to run it along my cheek, pressing her forehead gently against mine. "You have to promise me."

"Abby, I promise." I brought my lips slowly to hers, holding them there only for a moment, still half expecting her to pull away from me, still so scared I was going to make a wrong move and ruin everything. "I am not going to leave you. Okay?"

I watched her as she nodded reluctantly, a small smile spreading slowly over her face as she looked back at me, going over each of my features again and again, as if she couldn't entirely believe me until she saw that one thing she was looking for. "Okay," she accepted quietly, bringing her lips back up to meet mine, just once, before I heard the one thing I'd been wishing for all along, that one small laugh of contentment that I was always going to remember.

It was a small laugh, yes, but a laugh nonetheless, a laugh that lit me up inside, that let me know that maybe, just maybe, things would be able to get back to the way they had been before.

And as it turned out, that hope, that maybe, was all I really needed in the end.


End file.
